Chapter Eight
B y the time the sound of Becket’s truck outside the guesthouse reached Ellie ears on Monday afternoon, she was just about hyperventilating. Why on earth had she agreed to go to Bozeman with Becket Weston of all people?
She’d come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to date again, wasn’t getting married, would be happily single.
She even planned on getting a cat. But what happened?
The known womanizer in town flashed one of his killer smiles her way and she kissed him, forgetting all her earlier resolutions, and even agreed to go with him to Bozeman.
Okay, it wasn’t that long of a drive, but she was going to be with him in the car.
In a small space. Alone. For about half an hour.
That’s a long time when every breath she would take would fill her being with his powerfully male scent.
And then there was the dinner she’d apparently agreed to and, after that, still the drive back.
There was no way she could do that and stay aloof, not with Becket Weston close to her.
The only bright spot in the whole scenario was that she’d texted him to pick her up at the guesthouse.
When she’d opened her shop this morning, she’d realized that if Becket was to pick her up in Main Street, Aurelia Hill would know about it and the story would be all over town within seconds.
The smiley face he’d subsequently texted her had made her smile, just another thing that added to her agitated state.
Last night Annie had kept her in the kitchen until Ellie had spilled everything, even her date with Becket today. How that happened, Ellie still wasn’t sure. Annie was a sneaky one.
Fortunately, neither Annie nor Craig was home this afternoon, so at least she could get in Becket’s truck without Annie watching her every move.
Her telephone conversation with Gloria last night was probably partly to blame for her feeling overwhelmed this morning. She was buying Gloria’s house. Her dream house. To say she had mixed feelings was putting it mildly.
Yes, of course she was excited. It was, after all, the house she’d been dreaming about ever since she could remember.
But there was Becket. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to see him on a regular basis.
What she felt when she was with him wasn’t something she’d ever experienced before.
If she was honest, it scared the living daylights out of her.
Her experience of any kind of relationship was warped at best. She wasn’t even sure what this craziness inside her was when she was with Becket.
Lust, she recognized. Lust she understood.
It was the bone-deep desire to be with him, the constant awareness of her own body, her needs, though, that was freaking her out.
She was out of control and didn’t like it one bit.
Her nighttime reading usually calmed her wayward thoughts, but talking first to Annie, and then to Gloria, she’d been so overcome she hadn’t picked up her book or even thought of posting anything on social media.
Groaning, she closed her eyes. It would be wonderful to simply go with what she was feeling, but at some point Becket, like most people in her life, would walk away. Her own parents hadn’t wanted her Marcus was forever finding fault with what she’d done or who she was.
The front doorbell rang. She was simply going to tell Becket she’d changed her mind, she wasn’t going anywhere. Inhaling deeply, she opened the front door. And there he was: big, devastatingly handsome and so sexy she wanted to fling herself into his arms.
His eyes darkened as he looked at her. “You look… gorgeous.”
Every word she’d had ready left her mind, leaving her with nothing to say.
Irritated with the whole ridiculous situation, she pressed her lips together, sidestepping him and made her way to his truck. “I told you not to waste your lines on me.” She’d go, but she didn’t have to like it.
Only when she got to his truck, did she realize her dilemma.
It was a hot day and she was wearing a short, yellow, halter-neck dress.
It was a perfectly modest dress, but there was no way she’d be able to get into the truck with her dignity intact.
Well, this was as good an excuse as any to get out of this silly date, anyway.
“Well, that’s it. I can’t get up into your truck. Don’t worry about me… Becket!” she yelled as he opened the door, scooped her up and put her in the seat.
Before she could take her next breath, he’d closed her door, walked around the truck and got in next to her. The truck roared to life.
“You can’t just pick me up!” she scolded.
“How else am I supposed to get you into my truck?” he asked.
“I’ve decided I don’t want to go with you,” she said crossly.
“It’s just a drive, Ellie. Relax. I like you in yellow. And before you say anything, it’s not a line, you really do look amazing. If no one has told you before, you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Do up your seat belt. So, have you been to Bozeman before?”
He changed the topic so quickly, Ellie couldn’t react right away.
“Truce?” Becket asked, holding out his hand closest to her. “I don’t wanna fight with you, it’s a beautiful day.”
Shaking her head, she looked at him. “You always get your way, don’t you?”
“Not always.” The quick smile he sent her left her breathless. Seriously.
Bozeman. He’d asked whether she’d been there. Talk. She could do that. “Yes, I’ve been to Bozeman. With your mother, actually. We went shopping for a wedding dress for Laura.”
*
By the time Becket dropped Ellie at a shopping mall, she was far more relaxed than she’d been when he’d picked her up.
“Just a minute,” he said as he quickly got out and walked around to help her down.
By the time he got to her side of the truck, she’d already opened the door and was frowning again. “This is ridiculous.”
He held out his hands. “Come on, shortcake, you’re wasting time.”
Grudgingly she put a hand in one of his. That was all he needed. With one movement, he had her in his arms.”
“Becket, don’t do that!” she was scolding again.
“How else do I get to hold you for a while?” he joked.
“Put me down.”
“Of course.” Ever so gently, he slid her down his body. The idea was to tease her, but by the time she was standing on her own two feet, he was out of breath, his body on fire.
She’d felt his body misbehave, if the blush creeping up her face was any indication.
“What can I say? You have this effect on me,” he growled.
“Becket…”
And then he couldn’t help himself, he simply had to touch her again. He cupped her face. “You make me ache for you, Ellie. And no, I’ve never said that to anyone.” Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “How much time do you need?”
Looking beautifully confused, she stared at him, clearly not registering what he was asking.
“For shopping?” He chuckled. “I should be finished by five o’clock. I’ll meet you over there,” he motioned toward a restaurant across the street. “I haven’t been there in a while, but their food is usually very good.”
“Okay, thanks.” Turning on her heel, she quickly walked toward the mall.
Lightheaded, Becket leaned against his truck for a moment. He had no idea what was going on here, but Ellie was driving him crazy. Not only had she intruded into his dreams, his thoughts, she’d also invaded his sacred space—his drawings.
To his amazement the reaction to his sketches of Ellie in front of the house with her cat and the dogs, had been overwhelming. He’d posted the illustrations he’d finished last night; it would be interesting to see what the feedback would be to these.
A part of him wanted to show her the sketches he’d made of her, but she was so skittish, maybe not yet.
Checking his watch, he quickly got into his truck. He had tractor parts to buy and two hundred sketches to ship.
*
It took Ellie a few minutes after she’d entered the mall to realize where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. Damn, that man. He could rattle her with one look, turning her insides to mush and confusing her usually logical thoughts.
She knew he was a flirt, that nothing he said or did could be taken seriously, but she couldn’t deny her body’s reaction to Becket Weston.
There, she’d acknowledge it. It was obviously only a temporary state of affairs; this reckless behavior would disappear soon enough.
Maybe she should just enjoy the feeling.
She was, after all, twenty-seven, on her way to becoming a spinster.
What if this would be the last time she felt like this? What if Becket was the last man to find her attractive?
Oh, my goodness, she didn’t need a man to think she was pretty to feel validated. Where did these thoughts come from? She couldn’t do anything about her past, but she was quite happy to be alone.
A dress in one of the windows caught her eye. She had money to burn and a whole afternoon to do some much-needed shopping. Dreaming about Becket Weston was a futile exercise.
A few minutes before five, she walked into the restaurant with about ten bags in her hands and a much lighter heart.
She was tired and hungry, but she’d had a wonderful time.
In the past she’d always had to consider what Marcus would and wouldn’t like.
Today, she didn’t need to please anyone but herself.
She was wearing one of her new purchases.
She refused to dwell on just why she’d felt the urge to change.
The yellow dress was fine for the day, but when she’d tried on these white pants and frilly blue top that left her shoulders bare, she’d known she wasn’t taking it off again.
The nude-colored high-heeled sandals she’d found in another shop were perfect with the outfit.